


House of Darcy

by MorganAW



Category: Pride and Prejudice & Related Fandoms, Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen, Star Trek, Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: F/M, Klingon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 03:37:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14782917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorganAW/pseuds/MorganAW
Summary: Darcy had always assumed that duty, honor, and the glory of his house would be the guiding principals when he chose his mate, as they are for the head of any Klingon family. Elizabeth Bennet is entirely unsuitable, her uncle is in trade, her father prefers to hide in his library rather than glory in battle, her mother is as interested in money as a Ferengi, and her youngest sisters have no dignity! How could any Klingon warrior overlook such deficiencies for as frivolous a thing as love? (Pride & Prejudice with Klingons)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am not from the Regency era, nor am I a Klingon. This is a mashup of two genres I enjoy for fun. There will be cultural errors that arise from mixing the two together. This will not be period specific for either nineteenth century England or twenty-third century Klingon Empire, and I will willfully pick and choose between elements of the two cultures based on what makes the plot work. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed dreaming it up.
> 
> Licensing Note: The story line and characters are inspired from Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen. The Klingon race and cultural traditions are from Star Trek by Gene Rodenberry and are owned by Paramount. Text from Jane Austen is in  green, text from Star Trek is in  blue. The tense, pronouns, or wording of these quotes may be slightly modified to fit the scene. If you would like to turn off the colored text, click "Hide Creator’s Style" at the top of the page. All original content and plot for The House of Darcy is released under a [Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/) license by Morgan A. Wyndham.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Everyone! I usually like to post completed works b/c I don't want to leave you guys hanging and b/c I like to edit for consistency on a completed manuscript before uploading. But I've been stuck at the Netherfield Ball for over a month and feel like I need some feedback. 
> 
> This is my first Star Trek fanfic, so I'm not sure how well I'm integrating the two genres, what do you guys think?
> 
> I'm including endnotes (I know, I know, they're annoying) for the Klingon phrases b/c I suspect most of you don't speak Klingon. So I'm doing endnotes on each chapter for the Klingon words that appear in that chapter, then I'll put a glossary of all of the words and phrases I've used at the end. Does this work? Do you have other thoughts?
> 
> I got a bit burnt out on this and I'm not even sure how many people are out there who are interested in this intersection of genres, should I continue?

Darcy prowled around the room. It was small. It was brightly lit. It was full of strangers. Provincial strangers on this obscure outpost that Bingly had, for some reason, decided to settle down in. To be sure, Darcy felt it his duty to help establish his friend. Bingly’s family had its roots in trade, but now he had proven himself a capable warrior in his own right and was striving to establish the burgeoning House of Bingley, and Darcy would do all he could to help his friend. The first logical step was to purchase land, establish a base, grow roots into a community. But this place ... Bingley had made his decision at a moment’s notice. The property of Netherfield was available, suitable, and only half a day’s journey to Qo’noS at warp four. That had been enough to induce Bingley to let the property for a year with the intent of purchasing it if all went well.

Netherfield was the largest property on Hertford, a class M planet near the Federation-Klingon border. Aside from middling estates with their crops, the only structure of note was the trading outpost of Meryton, a hub between Klingon industry and the Federation beyond. The population consisted of some four and twenty Houses of questionable rank, farmers, merchants, a single regiment of soldiers — who had no glory outside of socializing and ’protecting’ an outpost that hadn’t been attacked since the Khitomer accords — and the steady stream of traders through the outpost. His friend had apparently failed to take into account the inferiority of the local society and Darcy had failed to recall that his help came at the cost of sharing a house with Bingley’s two harridan sisters and his indolent brother-in-law.

Darcy had barely stepped off of his ship when Bingley announced that they were all going to a public party that evening held at the Meryton outpost. The assembly showed off the best and the worst of local society and Darcy was impressed with neither. The locals eyed him eagerly and speculated in entirely audible whispers about his wealth and rank. Miss Bingley would have happily clung to his arm and hounded him all evening, but he had managed to shake her off and had been practicing evasive maneuvers ever since.

He sighed in relief as a new set formed and Miss Bingley was led onto the dance floor by one of the local men. With his pursuer engaged for the next half hour, he could at least take up a quiet position out of the way and minimize his social interactions. He abhorred dancing in general. He had done his duty to his hostess and her sister by dancing once with each of Bingley’s sisters, but now that that was past he had no intention of repeating the business. Unfortunately, Miss Bingley had persisted in trailing him around the room all evening. He was sure that had his sleeves not been reinforced with light armor she would have sunk her claws into him long ago. He had tried everything short of direct insults and physical violence to turn her away, but he would not dishonor his friend by insulting his sister and he was afraid that she would misinterpret violence as interest.

From his vantage point he could hear the general gossip floating about the room, most of which centered around his own and his friend’s wealth, standing and victories. He could have borne it better had the conversation focused on his victories in battle, but the gaggle of loud matrons who were the primary participants were bandying about his wealth like a pack of greedy Ferengi. Such behavior would have been repugnant to him in any circumstances, but following in the wake of his sister’s near miss that summer it was no less than offensive. Had the whole empire regressed into fortune hunters and thieves? Had these people no honor or shame?

Darcy was, therefore in a dark mood when Bingley came bounding up to him and clapped his hand on his shoulder with a silly grin on his face.  “Come, Darcy,” said he, “I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself like a _yIntagh!_ 1

"No!  I certainly shall not. You know how I detest it, unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner," Darcy growled at his friend.  "At such an assembly as this it would be insupportable. Your sisters are engaged, and there is not another woman in the room whom it would not be a punishment to me to stand up with.”

"If your honor and glory as a great warrior come at the cost of scowling from corners at a party, I don’t know why I bother.  I never met with so many pleasant girls in my life as I have this evening; and there are several of them you see uncommonly pretty. Drink some bloodwine, dance, make merry!" Typical Bingley, give him a pretty face and a revealing gown to look at and he was happy.

 _"loDQuchjIHbe’!"_ 2 Darcy growled in Response. "Besides,  you are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room,” said Darcy, looking at the eldest Miss Bennet and hoping to distract Bingley from his purpose.

“Oh! She is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld! Don’t think you’ll tear me away from _her._ But there is one of her sisters sitting down just behind you, who is very pretty, and I dare say very agreeable. Drink some blood wine, gather your courage, and ask her to dance!" Bingley said with another forceful slap on the back.

“Which do you mean?” and turning round he looked for a moment at Elizabeth. he vaguely recalled being introduced to the family upon his arrival. The mother had eyed him speculatively as if estimating his value based on his family crest on his _Ha’quj_ 3 and the cut of his clothing and nearly forced him to dance with one of her daughters on the spot. He had no doubt that she had aspirations toward wealth and glory through her daughters marriages. Bingley was already taken in by the family — surely his dance partner must have sent him over to pair Darcy off with her sister — he saw no reason to offer himself as another conquest.  Catching her eye, he withdrew his own and coldly said: “She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me; I am in no humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. You had better return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me.”

Darcy was pleased when Bingley gave him an uncharacteristically grave look then returned to the dance floor. He glanced back to where Miss Elizabeth had been sitting, expecting a look of shocked indignation, or humbled shame for being called out on her family’s scheming, or unabashed flirting despite Darcy’s harsh words, but he saw none of those things. She had moved off to a group of young ladies and was speaking to them with great spirit. Her story ended in roaring laughter from the whole group, who then turned and looked directly at him. He would have been affronted were it not for the lively, playful glint in her eyes as she lifted one eyebrow at him in challenge — the simple movement rippled up through her forehead ridges in the most enticing way. Darcy became uncomfortably aware that his assessment of just moments ago was patently false. Elizabeth Bennet was far more than tolerable and entirely too tempting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. _yIntagh_ : stupid; dumb as rocks
> 
>  
> 
> 2\. _loDQuchjIHbe'_ : I am not a merry man
> 
>  
> 
> 3\. _Ha'quj_ : A baldric or sash that bears one's family crest


	2. A Gathering

A week or so after that inauspicious beginning, they were invited to a large party at Lucas Lodge. _QaH 1_ William Lucas had been formerly in trade in Meryton, where he had made a tolerable fortune, and risen to the honour of knighthood by an address to the high council. The distinction had been enough to establish the house of Lucas and inflate the man’s sense of self-importance. Darcy had scarcely been at the party for half an hour before the verbose _qaH_ William had divulged his entire history to his esteemed guest. Darcy had soon adapted to filtering out the man’s obsequious chatter in favor of listening to the alluring Miss Elizabeth.

Over the past week, he had begun  to wish to know more of her, and as a step towards conversing with her himself, attended to her conversation with others. He could easily command a star ship and his household with an authority which nobody could question, yet he found himself unequal to speaking with this woman. His own gravity was such a sharp contrast to her easy playfulness that her bubbles of laughter seemed to pop at his approach. So instead of engaging her directly, he remained to the side conducting reconnaissance, soaking in her presence.

Moving away from _qaH_ William, Darcy drifted again into her orbit, drawn by her intelligent conversation and the  beautiful expression of her dark eyes. He was busy admiring the long tumble of dark curls cascading down her back as she whispered to Miss Lucas when  she turned to him and said: “Did you not think, Mr. Darcy, that I expressed myself uncommonly well just now, when I was teasing Colonel Forster to give us a ball at Meryton?”

While he was somewhat surprised at being directly addressed by the object of his covert examination, Darcy could not resist the urge to reply.  “With great energy; but it is always a subject which makes a lady energetic.”

Her eyebrow rose and her cheeks flushed  “You are severe on us. Do you find women only capable of discussing balls and gowns?"

"I believe you proposed the topic Miss Bennet, I merely complemented your skill in discussing it." _Won’t this woman take a complement,_ he growled internally.

“It will be her turn soon to be teased,” said Miss Lucas. “I am going to tune instrument, Eliza, and you know what follows.”

"Ah yes," she said as she raked a heated gaze over Darcy, "another topic on which _ladies_ are _energetic._ " Turning again to Miss Lucas she added,  "if my vanity had taken a musical turn, you would have been invaluable; but as it is, I would really rather not sit down before those who must be in the habit of hearing the very best performers.”

Darcy found the interaction odd, but was encouraged by a successful interaction with Miss Bennet. He positioned himself to have a favorable view of the performer. He concluded that her own assessment of her skills was quite correct —  her performance was pleasing, though by no means capital. She played a rousing battle song, but did not pander to him by playing one of the many that extolled his own valor. Overall he was glad that she considered his tastes before she played.

~~~

_Insufferable baktag! 2_ Elizabeth Bennet swore under her breath as she sat at the _Supghew 3_. She knew that her anger would not suit a love ballad so she began to fiercely strum out the opening notes of a battle song, releasing her rage through the music. _If he thinks so poorly of women in general and me in particular, what does he mean by listening in on my conversations! Even now he positions himself just before the instrument to intimidate me!_ She fumed her way through two songs before her sister Mary succeeded her. Elizabeth stalked her way back to Charlotte’s side to vent more of her anger.

Before long Kitty and Lydia, the youngest and silliest of the daughters of Bennet, requested Mary to play some livelier music and began an impromptu dance. Elizabeth, mortified by their undignified, indiscreet manner, set off across the room to check their behavior. She was nearing her destination when she was drawn up by an eager entreaty:  “My dear Miss Eliza, why are you not dancing? Mr. Darcy, you must allow me to present this young lady to you as a very desirable partner. You cannot refuse to dance, I am sure when so much beauty is before you.”

She reared back as the well-meaning _qaH_ William grabbed her hand to physically offer to Mr. Darcy. The thought of dancing with that _toh-pah 4_ was insupportable.  “Indeed, sir, I have not the least intention of dancing. I entreat you not to suppose that I moved this way in order to beg for a partner.”

~~~

_Is she refusing me?_ Darcy thought with some surprise, _perhaps she is merely waiting for a proper request._ "Miss Elizabeth, _mamI’ DaneH?" 5_

He was surprised by the defiant tilt of her head as she again refused him. _QaH_ William attempted to change her mind with idle flattery, but she was adamant.  “Mr. Darcy is all politeness,” she said with a smile that bordered on a sneer before she turned and continued her progress across the room.

Darcy watched her retreat with amazement. He had been refused by an impertinent girl from a lowly backwater outpost! He fumed as he grabbed another glass of bloodwine and scowled over the crowd. True, he had not meant to dance, _qaH_ William had forced his hand into making the offer. But though extremely surprised, and not himself fond of dancing, he found that he was not unwilling to dance with Miss Bennet. He searched his memory for the last time he had requested a dance and been refused and could not recall a single prior case. In general, women threw themselves at him. He was a celebrated warrior, head of a noble household, member of the high council, he knew that he was desirable because women informed him so daily. And yet this one insignificant, stubborn, fiery, beautiful, woman from an obscure planet at the outer reaches of the empire refused him. The vision of her flashing eyes as she defiantly refused him swam before his vision. She was not a simpering woman. Those eyes were so expressive, so vibrant, so challenging.

“I can guess the subject of your reverie.” The cloying tones of Caroline Bingley penetrated Darcy’s thoughts. He’d been so distracted that he’d allowed the predator to latch on again.

“I should imagine not.” He smiled slightly at the thought of Caroline’s reaction to his true thoughts.

“You are considering how insupportable it would be to pass many evenings in this manner — in such society; and indeed I am quite of your opinion." She said with an air of smug superiority that grated on him. He suddenly felt the need to startle her, to show her that all of her airs and allurements were in vain.

"No,  my mind was more agreeably engaged. I have been meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow.”

His unwanted companion turned to him with her attempt at a seductive gaze and asked, "And whose eyes inspired such meditation?" She winked, fully assured that he was speaking of her.

“Miss Elizabeth Bennet.” He was rewarded for his disclosure by the look of horrified shock that spread across Miss Bingley’s face.

“Miss Elizabeth Bennet!” repeated Miss Bingley. “I am all astonishment. How long has she been such a favourite? — and pray, when am I to wish you joy?”

Darcy growled at Miss Bingley’s response, "It is typical of you to  jump from admiration to love, and next you’ll expect a marriage oath based on one offhand comment." Which is why if Darcy ever did find anything admirable in Miss Bingley, he would certainly never inform her of it. She continued to tease him about his conquest, about the misfortune of the House of Bennet, about the greedy Mother and the unworthy connections for some time. No doubt she found herself to be rather witty, but Darcy’s mind had already drifted to other matters as her vitriol fell on deaf ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. _qaH_ : Klingon honorific, equivalent of 'Sir'
> 
> 2\. _baktag_ : A Klingon word used as an insult, as in a 'piece of baktag.
> 
> 3\. _Supghew_ : A Klingon stringed instrument, similar to a lyre or harp
> 
> 4\. _toh-pah_ : Klingon expletive, as in 'you incompetent Toh-pah.'
> 
> 5\. _mamI' DaneH?_ : Would you like to dance with me?


	3. Trek to Netherfield

Elizabeth Bennet tramped happily through the fields of Longborne. The wind in her face and the stillness of nature following yesterday’s rain had nearly soothed her anger at her mother. Following Bingley’s attentions to Jane at the assembly, Mrs. Bennet had taken it as a foregone conclusion that he would marry her eldest daughter in short order. Therefore, when Miss Bingley and her sister invited Jane to dine with them at Netherfield on an evening when the men would be out, Mrs. Bennet had contrived an excuse for her to be delayed at Netherfield. She insisted that the transporter was needed all day on the farm. That left poor Jane no choice but to ride a _sark 1_ to her dinner engagement. Of course, as per her mother’s design, the heavy rain set in just after Jane’s departure.

Jane, like many modern klingons, had little practical experience riding _sark back_, particularly in adverse weather conditions. The beast had been startled by a bolt of lightning and thrown her from his back as she approached Netherfield. She had been taken to Netherfield where Dr. Jones, the local medic, had done his best to mend her broken leg. Unfortunately medical technologies on their little outpost were limited and what could have easily been mended in a day on a top-notch starship or on Qo’noS would take nearly a week under Dr. Jones’s care. Furthermore, he recommended against moving her during her recovery lest it upset the mending process.

Had Jane been at home, Elizabeth would have been able to care for her sister and entertain her. Living on a trading outpost which saw it’s fair share of diversity, the House of Bennet did not strictly adhere to _all_ traditional Klingon practices. However, given Miss Bingley’s haughty insinuations and Mr. Darcy’s disapproving looks, Elizabeth was certain that the Netherfield party would maintain the archaic traditions of segregating the injured party. After all, it was shameful for a Klingon to be seen in such a state of weakness, particularly with an injury caused by such a frivolous accident. No, in that house of near strangers, Jane would be secluded away until she was healed and returned to Longborne, no matter what her mother’s hopes may be.

Elizabeth had, therefore set off on foot that morning to trek the three miles to Netherfield to visit her sister,  crossing field after field at a quick pace, jumping over stiles and springing over puddles with impatient activity, and finding herself at last within view of the house, with weary ankles, dirty boots, and a face glowing with the warmth of exercise.

She quickly attempted to clean the mud off of her boots before entering the parlor where she was met by five pairs of startled eyes. Elizabeth gathered her courage and informed her hosts that she was there to inquire after her sister. Bingley recovered first and greeted her warmly. His sisters gave the veneer of politeness, but Elizabeth noted their eyes straying to her soiled clothing and perceived their contempt. Darcy asked incredulously if she’d traveled there on foot. She swept her own gaze down her dress and confirmed that she had in fact done so. Miss Bingley made some thinly veiled criticisms of Elizabeth’s conduct and appearance. Darcy fell into silence, but Elizabeth felt his judgmental gaze following her through the room. After some few minutes of _polite_ inquiries and _civil_ discussion, Elizabeth was finally led to Jane’s room so that she might entertain her in her forced confinement.

Jane was asleep, so Elizabeth was largely left to ponder over the intolerable pride of this house’s inhabitants. With the exception of Mr. Bingley, all of them clearly felt themselves above the company of their neighbors. Caroline Bingley and Louisa Hurst put on false displays of civility and friendship while openly disdaining all they saw, Mr. Hurst couldn’t be bothered to speak to those around him — though he didn’t seem too intent on the conversation of any of his party either. Mr. Darcy spoke only slightly more than Mr. Hurst, but was sure to offend whenever he made the attempt.

If his atrocious manners at that first assembly were not enough to ensure her scorn, his behavior in each successive meeting had assured her of his arrogance and disdain for his fellow creatures. Had he merely kept his own company when in society or sat out of the dancing, perhaps she could have forgiven him, but he had taken up a habit of staring at her and listening to her conversations. As she was aware of his low estimation of her beauty, she could find no other explanation for this behavior than that she somehow offended him so much with her faults that he could not help but gawk.

Elizabeth was an active woman and found confinement and inaction unbearable. With Jane asleep she found herself at loose ends with nothing to entertain her outside of her own thoughts, which had only served to compound her frustration. She paced the room for several minutes impatiently before she finally settled for quietly performing some _moQbara 2_ formations to cleanse her mind of thoughts of that hateful man.

~~~

Elizabeth would have been surprised to find that while Mr. Darcy’s thoughts were following a similar path through the history of their acquaintance, his recollections were far more positive. She had charged into the parlor that morning ready for battle — and Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst indeed attacked her with a volley of criticism under the cloak of polite conversation — but her shields had held and she maintained her composure. For the past half hour since she had been shown to her sister’s room, Bingley’s sisters had droned on with more overt attacks which were clearly aimed to impugn Miss Bennet and gain favor with Darcy. Their campaign did little more than solidify his disdain for them. _QuvHutlhHoHboghtlhIngan ’ach qabDaj ’angbe’bogh 3_, likewise any Klingon of honor would directly state their insults to their opponent’s face rather than sneer behind their back.

So while they droned on Darcy allowed his mind to wander. He was haunted by her magnificent appearance that morning: her long curly black hair was windswept, her complexion was brightened by exercise, and her eyes were shining in defiance. Try as he might, Darcy was unable to repress visions of other activities that would give her such a disheveled appearance. For herself she was everything a hot-blooded Klingon could want in a mate. She was spirited, witty, beautiful, lively and robust. He smiled slightly as he remembered the tufts of grass skewered on the spikes of her boots that morning. _Butlhghajboghnuv’e’eyIHo’. 4_ Elizabeth Bennet was the kind of woman you could take on a _targ 5_ hunt and sleep beside a campfire. Unlike many daughters of noble houses, she would not be afraid of soiling her clothing or challenging him. Unfortunately, Bingley’s sisters did occasionally hit on aspects of Miss Bennet’s situation that _did_ concern him. Her family was entirely unsuitable, her mother an atrocious fortune-hunter, and her younger sisters intolerable. No, with his family honor on the line, he could not consider taking Elizabeth Bennet as a mate, no matter how alluring she herself could be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. _sark:_ A beast of burden native to Qo'noS, similar to a horse
> 
> 2\. _moQbara:_ A Klingon martial art
> 
> 3\. _quvHutlhHoHboghtlhIngan 'ach qabDaj 'angbe'bogh:_ The Klingon who kills without showing his face has no honor
> 
> 4\. _butlhghajboghnuv'e'eyIHo':_ Admire the person with dirt under their fingernails
> 
> 5\. _targ:_ An animal native to Qo'noS, similar to a boar


	4. Netherfield: Evening 1

To her dismay, Elizabeth found herself that evening installed in the parlor of Netherfield. She had intended to return home, but Mr. Bingley was so anxious for Jane’s comfort and well-being, and had pressed her so attentively to remain at Netherfield for the duration of Jane’s recovery that she found herself quite unable to decline. Now, Jane was asleep in her bedchamber and Elizabeth was forced by custom to join the others. She found them playing cards and decided it was prudent to excuse herself from the game. These lofty families disdained trade — although it was common knowledge that the House of Bingley was newly established from its roots in trade — and yet here they were gambling like Ferenghi.

Therefore Elizabeth sat off to the side with a pad in hand reading. Her decision was ridiculed by Mr. Hurst and Miss Bingley as dispirited. Unfortunately Netherfield’s computer had only a meager assortment of books available, and the library was shockingly bare of any physical books at all, but she was able to find a history of memorable Klingon victories to amuse herself with.

Somehow, Miss Bingley’s flirtatious inquiries after Darcy’s sister morphed into a conversation on the accomplishments of young ladies. True to their characters, Mr. Bingley was apt to be too generous, Mr. Darcy to be too critical, and Miss Bingley merely echoed Darcy’s thoughts.

"I cannot boast of knowing more than half-a-dozen women, in the whole range of my acquaintance, that are really accomplished,” Darcy asserted imperiously.

“Nor I, I am sure,” Miss Bingley dutifully assented.

Elizabeth set aside her pad with emotions vascilating between amusement and outrage.  “Then you must comprehend a great deal in your idea of an accomplished woman.”

“Yes, I do comprehend a great deal in it.”

“Oh! certainly,” cried his faithful assistant, “no one can be really esteemed accomplished who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with. A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the diplomatic languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half-deserved.” Elizabeth noted that this was merely a list of Miss Bingley’s own accomplishments offered up as an ideal.

“All this she must possess,” added Darcy, “and to all this she must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of her body with exercise and training in the martial arts and of her  mind by extensive reading.”

Elizabeth found herself internally laughing at their assumption that women possessed a different rubric for accomplishment than men. Perhaps it was the contact she had with the Federation and other cultures in Meryton, or perhaps it was merely her good fortune that she was _not_ of such noble circles that she must submit to being less than her male peers, but she found the conversation to be positively archaic. It was such patriarchal legacies that would wrest control of the House of Bennet from her and her sisters and place it into the hands of an unknown cousin. She therefore responded in a voice dripping with sarcasm,  “I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished women. I rather wonder now at your knowing any.”

~~~

Darcy was surprised by Miss Bennet’s response. He had been afraid that his unguarded words would reveal that she herself was the template foremost in his mind of an accomplished woman, but now she seemed to be contradicting him for the sake of argument.  “Are you so severe upon your own sex as to doubt the possibility of all this?” _Do you not own a mirror?_

She lifted her eyebrow at him in that challenging way and replied with a voice far closer to Miss Bingley’s habitual tone than her own,  “I never saw such a woman. I never saw such capacity, and taste, and application, and elegance, as you describe united.”

Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley both cried out against the injustice of her implied doubt, and were both protesting that they knew many women who answered this description, but Darcy had not taken his eyes off of Miss Bennet and saw her roll her eyes at their response. So she did do herself that justice at least. It was not until Miss Bennet had left the room and Miss Bingley pettily accused her of attempting to snare him by putting down other women that he realized that _he_ was the one who had not done her justice. He had fallen into Miss Bingley’s mode of speech and disparaged women as a class.

“Undoubtedly,” replied Darcy, “there is a meanness in _all_ the arts which ladies sometimes condescend to employ for captivation. Whatever bears affinity to cunning is despicable.” With this he at least succeeded in ending the conversation with Miss Bingley.


	5. Netherfield: Evening 2

With the exception of a mortifying visit from her mother and younger sisters, the following day passed much the same as the day before. Elizabeth sequestered herself in her sister’s chambers as long as she possibly could before joining the party in the drawing room.

When she entered, Mr. Darcy was engaged in writing a letter to his sister and Miss Bingley was engaged in fawning over Mr. Darcy. As seemed to be the pattern between the two, this somehow led to an argument between Elizabeth and the arrogant Mr. Darcy. It began as an idle comparison of the writing styles of Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley: long, neat, and well thought out vs. quick, blotchy, and careless. Elizabeth managed to turn this into a character study praising Mr. Bingley’s humility and joviality. Mr. Darcy returned that this humility was indeed merely an indirect boast and the ensuing argument did nothing to endear Mr. Darcy to her.

She was, therefore, rather astonished later in the evening when Mr. Darcy asked her to dance. True, he had applied to both Miss Bingley and herself for music, but as Miss Bingley had hostilely raced to the instrument, Elizabeth reclaimed her seat and considered the matter closed. Now this _petaQ 1_ was standing before her with his arm outstretched requesting her hand for a dance! Even though she was well aware that she was  not handsome enough to tempt him into dancing. She merely gave him a sneering smile.

~~~

Darcy was confused. She had been flirting with him all evening: Taunting him with her laughing eyes, engaging with him in debate, laughing her delightful laugh. He had tried to keep his distance, to show her no preference so as not to raise her expectations. He had hoped to at least hear her play and sing, but his spirits sunk as Miss Bingley made it apparent she was installed at the _supghew 2_ for the foreseeable future. When she moved on from showy arias to lively dance music Darcy could no longer resist the urge to engage with Elizabeth, to take her hands in his, to twirl her around the floor, to have her look up at him with those enchanting eyes brimming with laughter and her cheeks flushed with exertion.

And so he asked her to dance. Civilly. Politely. Correctly. And she just sat there smiling at him. Had she not heard him?  "Do not you feel a great inclination, Miss Bennet, to seize such an opportunity of dancing?” He repeated.

“Oh!” said she, “I heard you before, but I could not immediately determine what to say in reply. You wanted me, I know, to say ‘Yes,’ that you might have the pleasure of despising my taste; but I always delight in overthrowing those kind of schemes, and cheating a person of their premeditated contempt. I have, therefore, made up my mind to tell you, that I do not want to dance a reel at all—and now despise me if you dare.”

Darcy knew he should be affronted. This woman had now refused twice to dance with him. _Him!_ And yet, her eyes sparked with the mirth that always beguiled him, and  there was a mixture of sweetness and archness in her manner which made it difficult for her to affront anybody; and Darcy had never been so bewitched by any woman as he was by her. So he merely bowed to her and replied,  “Indeed I do not dare.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. _petaQ:_ An insult meaning 'useless' or 'incompetent'
> 
> 2\. _Supghew:_ A Klingon stringed instrument, similar to a lyre or harp


	6. Netherfield: Evening 3

The following evening, Caroline Bingley looked around her drawing room devising a plan. Her brother had thrown off the cloak of decency and honor in favor of spending the evening soaking in the smiles of his _angel._ He had tried to convince Caroline that Miss Bennet could join their small party with a nearly mended injury without offense, but Caroline put an end to that with a bid to consider Mr. Darcy’s comfort and sent him off to visit her in her chambers.

Mr. Hurst proposed playing cards, repeatedly, but Caroline was aware that Mr. Darcy was disinclined to the activity that evening so she shut him down at every request. Mr. Hurst, with nothing to keep himself awake and having consumed an astonishing amount of blood wine with his dinner, promptly fell asleep. Louisa appeared to keep herself awake only by merit of  playing with her bracelets and rings. That _BiHnuch 1_ Miss Eliza sat quietly reading from her pad, but Caroline got the impression that her attention was more devoted to observing the company and laughing at them than to her book.

Caroline thrilled at her skills as a hostess as Mr. Darcy set a book down on the table beside him and began to read another. She had known that was his intention and she arranged the evenings entertainments just to his liking. Surely he could see how solicitous she was of his comfort. How eager to please. How good of a mate she would make him.

Her pleasant reverie was broken by the snide voice of Miss Eliza. "You must tell me your secret, sir, for I found the library quite bare upon my own search." _How dare she insult my brother’s library,_ Caroline thought.

She was about to release a litany of veiled insults to remind that _Mak’dar 2_ of her place when Mr. Darcy replied. "Knowing the state of Bingley’s collection, I brought a few books of my own for the visit. I would be happy to lend you one if you find yourself unsatisfied." Caroline was struck dumb for a moment. She could hardly chastise Miss Eliza for insulting her brother’s collection now without implicating Mr. Darcy as well, and that she could never do.

Miss Eliza, at least, had no wish to continue the conversation and replied, "I am quite content as I am," and returned her eyes to the pad in front of her.

Jealous that Mr. Darcy would make such an offer to Miss Elizabeth and not to herself, Caroline made a great show of accepting his offer. Trailing her fingers over his skull ridge seductively she purred, "Your library at Pemberly is one of the finest collections in the empire. I, for one, would be honored to borrow a book. With that she scooped up the other book on the table beside him and posed herself nearby with the book.

"Miss Bingley, I hardly think that the second volume of a book will be much use to you without the first." Mr. Darcy said dryly.

She couldn’t have him thinking her a mindless _t’gla 3_. "It’ll merely be a refresher, I’ve read ..." she began confidently but faltered when she finally glanced down at the title " _Principles of Land Management_ ages ago, I’ll just reacquaint myself with this volume on..." again she looked down and frowned, " _ _Sark 4_ Husbandry._ It is, after all, important to know these things as mistress of a great House." _There,_ she thought, _at least I’ve managed to bring it back to my suitability as his wife._

"I’m sure Bingley will appreciate your devotion to acting as his hostess." Mr. Darcy replied without looking up from his own book. Miss Eliza’s eyes likewise never left her pad, but her short trill of laughter did not escape notice. Caroline’s frown deepened, of course she wasn’t talking about her position in her brother’s House! How could she be more plain to Mr. Darcy?

As it turned out, reading about _sark_ breeding was the most tedious task imaginable. She spent only a fraction of her time attempting to read it, the rest was divided between attempting to draw Mr. Darcy into conversation and turning her page at the precise moment he did. Unfortunately, the terse Mr. Darcy hardly responded. At length she said,  “How pleasant it is to spend an evening in this way! I declare after all there is no enjoyment like reading! How much sooner one tires of anything than of a book!" At his lack of response, she drew her nails up his arm and added,  "when I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not an excellent library.” She was certain that he could not possibly misunderstand _that_ after her previous complements about his library. But Mr. Darcy read on with no reply.

Finding her words ineffective, she threw down her book and rose. Darcy was a man of action and vigor, she must try a different approach. She began by walking around the room to justify standing, then paused before Mr. Darcy and made some slight comment on the book. She knew that leaning slightly toward him as she was, her cleavage was perfectly positioned before his eyes, but still he did not respond. She was beginning to wonder if Klingon blood really did course through his veins.

She turned and walked gracefully toward the fireplace, and as she turned to pace back she noticed Mr. Darcy had finally looked up from his book ... and was staring at Miss Eliza Bennet! _Dor-sho-gha! 5_ In the desperation of her feelings, she resolved on one effort more, and, turning to Elizabeth, said:

“Miss Eliza Bennet, let me persuade you to follow my example, and do some _moQbara 6_ stretches.  I assure you it is very refreshing after sitting so long in one attitude.”

~~~

Elizabeth was surprised, but agreed to it immediately, she found she could indeed use some exercise. She had surreptitiously watched Miss Bingley’s failed attempts to impress Mr. Darcy all evening and noted with no little amusement that now he finally closed his book and looked up. They had scarcely begun their first form when Miss Bingley invited Mr. Darcy to join them.

"No," he growled in a low tone, "I can  imagine but two motives for taking your exercise now in the drawing room and I would not wish to interfere."

“What could he mean? I am dying to know what could be his meaning?” Miss Bingley asked her coquettishly.

Unwilling to pander to Miss Bingley’s attempts to pander to Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth replied archly: "I do not know,  but depend upon it, he means to be severe on us, and our surest way of disappointing him will be to ask nothing about it." Elizabeth calmly continued breathing her way through the form. Miss Bingley, however, stopped moving, no doubt shocked at Elizabeth’s impertinence, and continued to press Mr. Darcy for an explanation.

“I have not the smallest objection to explaining them,” said he, as soon as she allowed him to speak. “You either choose this method of passing the evening because you are in each other’s confidence, and have secret affairs to discuss, or because you are conscious that your figures appear to the greatest advantage in motion; if the first, I would be completely in your way, and if the second, I can admire you much better from my seat."

Miss Bingley asked in mock affront how to punish Mr. Darcy for this account. Elizabeth, who thought that Mr. Darcy of all people needed to be laughed at for once in his life, responded accordingly. Miss Bingley, who would never admit to any defect of Darcy’s — at least not before she had secured him in marriage — foolishly stated that Mr. Darcy had no faults. This, of course, led to a heated discussion on the man’s faults, which Elizabeth had no qualms identifying as vanity and pride.

The _’eDjen Ha’DIbaH 7_ had the audacity to defend himself —  “Yes, vanity is a weakness indeed. But pride—where there is a real superiority of mind, pride will be always under good regulation.” Elizabeth somehow managed to prevent herself from laughing in his face, but could not repress a smile. After a bit more goading, Mr. Darcy admitted to owning a resentful temper,  his good opinion once lost, is lost forever.

The argument reached its crescendo with each passing final judgments on each other. Elizabeth spat at him:  "your defect is to hate everybody.”

"And yours,” he replied with a smile, “is willfully to misunderstand them.”

They were by this time standing inordinately close to one another, breathing heavily in their indignation, when Miss Bingley interrupted: "If  your examination of Mr. Darcy is over, perhaps we could move from formations to sparring. I find myself with an excess of energy." Elizabeth could see the hatred ozzing off of Miss Bingley and readily assented. She was in the mood for battle and punching the haughty Miss Bingley would be almost as satisfying as besting Mr. Darcy.

~~~

Darcy forced himself to sit down and tried to regulate his heart beat. Miss Bingley’s intervention was timely. Staring into Miss Bennet’s fiery eyes, he was about a breath away from surging forward, biting her cheek, and declaring his intentions to the world.  He began to feel the danger of paying Elizabeth too much attention and resolved to keep his distance from here on out. Not even such a resolution, however could prevent him from watching their sparring match with interest.

"It’s such a shame, Eliza, that you’ve not had the advantage of masters from Qo’noS to teach you how to fight," Miss Bingley said maliciously as she took down the crossed _bat’leths 8_ from above the fireplace.

"That may be, Miss Bingley, but my parents are both skilled warriors and I was raised with four sisters to spar with." Elizabeth replied as she took the weapon and swung it with a flourish. They began their fight and Darcy could not help but compare the two women before him. Miss Bingley had both height and weight on her side and moved with technical proficiency, but Miss Elizabeth moved with an easy grace and a practiced skill that was bewitching.

Miss Elizabeth surged forward with a blow and Miss Bingley nearly missed the parry because her legs became tangled in her skirts. She was dressed fashionably and elegantly with flowing skirts running past her knees over delicate boots. She wore an ostentatious necklace that served as a breastplate, but her dress was cut impractically down to the waist negating any function of the breastplate. Miss Elizabeth, on the other hand, wore a simple tunic over leggings and sturdy boots that allowed her a full range of motion. Her clothing was modestly cut and of good materials and the belt at her waist emphasized her enticing curves. He was well aware that Caroline Bingley dressed with the goal of appealing to him, but he found the simple practicality of Miss Elizabeth’s attire far more attractive.

He allowed himself to muse on these topics for some minutes as the soothing clangs of _bat’leth_ on _bat’leth_ filled the room. Miss Bingley attempted to display her skill with a complex spin, but her timing was off and Miss Elizabeth was able to easily overset her balance and pin her to the ground with the point of her blade at that exposed expanse of cleavage. "I must point out, Miss Bingley, that such fashions may be alluring, but leave much to be desired in combat," Miss Elizabeth quipped with that damned appealing lift of her eyebrow, "had I wished to do you any real harm you would be dead now."

Miss Bingley huffed as Miss Elizabeth held her hand out to help her off of the parlor floor, for a moment it looked as if she would refuse to take it. "Well, Miss Elizabeth, I must say you fight well, even if you lack ... refinement, but I dare say brute force does sometimes win in the end," Miss Bingley said as she begrudgingly accepted Miss Elizabeth’s help.

Miss Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at her opponent _"Suvlu’taHvISyapbe’ HoSneH." 9_ she said truthfully. Seeing the anger seethe in Miss Bingley’s eyes she laughed and added, "your style does have a certain elegance to it, but much like my sister Lydia, you appear to get caught up on showmanship in neglect of caution." She replaced the _bat’leth_ on the wall and in one elegant motion managed to bow and turn on her heel with a mirthful _"Qapla’!" 10_ as she swept out of the room.

Darcy was left staring after her in awe. _I am certainly in some danger from that beguiling woman_ he thought as Miss Bingley’s screeching attack of Miss Elizabeth filled the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. _BiHnuch:_ An insult meaning 'coward'
> 
> 2\. _Mak'dar:_ A Klingon expletive modified by pathetic
> 
> 3\. _t'gla:_ An animal native to Qo'noS, known for its mindlessness, lack of initiative and individuality
> 
> 4\. _sark:_ A beast of burden native to Qo'noS, similar to a horse
> 
> 5\. _Dor-sho-gha:_ Klingon curse used to express great frustration
> 
> 6\. _moQbara:_ A Klingon martial art
> 
> 7\. _'eDjen Ha'DIbaH:_ arrogant animal
> 
> 8\. _bat'leth:_ A curved Klingon blade commonly used for close combat
> 
> 9\. _Suvlu'taHvISyapbe' HoSneH:_ Brute strength is not the most important asset in a fight
> 
> 10\. _Qapla':_ 'Success', as a farewell: 'may you be successful'


	7. A Meeting in Meryton

Several days later, Elizabeth was walking briskly toward Meryton with her sisters and her cousin, Mr. Collins. She had passed a further two days at Netherfield for the duration of which Mr. Darcy scarcely said a word to her and Miss Bingley said far too many but never repeated the invitation to spar. By the time she and Jane had been transported back to Longbourne Elizabeth was quite certain that she could not find worse companions than Mr. Darcy or Miss Bingley. That is, at least, until her cousin clamored his way into their lives. Elizabeth knew how to respond to arrogance and insult, this obsequious fawning was another beast entirely. So she allowed his babbling to fade into the background like engine noise as she pondered their predicament.

The situation was unfortunate. Women could not lead a Klingon House and Mr. Bennet had no sons. Therefore upon his death, his House, his family, and his estate would pass under the dubious control of Mr. Collins. This cousin was short, overweight, and had a remarkably small skull ridge. He was a priest of _Kahless, 1_ but both his intellect and his _bat’leth 2_ were dull from neglect. He had made no attempt to hide his intent of marrying one of the daughters of Bennet to honor the family and strengthen the bond. He had initially paid particular notice of Jane, but after a hushed discussion with her mother that morning, he had attached himself to Elizabeth’s side.

The man himself repulsed her no less than the idea of marrying her cousin. Unlike Caroline Bingley, she _had_ read enough about _sark 3_ husbandry to know that mating between such near relations resulted in weak offspring. She would not degrade her family line merely for some symbolic show of honor.

However, this resolution would leave her mother and sisters unguarded if her father did die. This was not a new fear, her mother’s nerves were constantly shaken by this eventuality, but her father had made an even larger sacrifice. Every Klingon wished to die well in battle, but for the sake of his daughters, her father had been forced to retire to his library once it became clear that he would sire no son. He could not risk dying and leaving his family unprotected. Unless at least one of the daughters married well, the family faced two unfortunate alternatives, either their father would die young and leave them vulnerable, or he would face the disgrace of living into his old age and facing the decay of his body.

She was called out of her reverie by Lydia and Kitty’s squeals of delight as they entered Meryton. They had espied  a young man, whom they had never seen before, of most gentlemanlike appearance, walking with another officer on the other side of the way. The officer was Mr. Denny an acquaintance of the Bennets. The younger girls, heedless of their sister’s and cousin’s remonstrances, charged across the street to meet this handsome stranger. Mr. Denny obligingly introduced his friend as a Mr. Wickham, the newest member of the regiment stationed at the Meryton outpost. This news was warmly received by Lydia and Kitty, whose sole interest was in attracting handsome soldiers.

Elizabeth was charmed by Mr. Wickham’s handsome features, and pleasant unassuming conversation. She was favorably comparing Mr. Wickham to her other recent aquaintences — Mr. Darcy and Mr. Collins —  when the sound of _sarks_ drew their notice, and Darcy and Bingley were seen riding down the street. Mr. Bingley, unwilling to pass the opportunity to visit with his _angel_ happily approached the group with Mr. Darcy following somewhat behind. Elizabeth happened to look up at just the moment that Mr. Darcy’s eyes fixed on Mr. Wickham and  was all astonishment at the effect of the meeting. Both changed colour, one looked white, the other red. Mr. Wickham, after a few moments, touched his hat—a salutation which Mr. Darcy just deigned to return before turning his _sark_ and riding away without taking leave. Mr. Bingley, still engaged in animated conversation with Jane, was left to make hasty goodbyes and follow in his friend’s wake.

Elizabeth was left with a burning curiosity to know the nature of their prior relationship and a mind full of speculations.

~~~

_Qu’vatlh! 4_ Darcy’s hands tightened on the reigns as he rode as sedately as possible out of town. He refused to let himself look back lest the sight of Wickham drive him to violence. The sight of Elizabeth within arms reach of that pile of rotting _forshak 5_ urged him to take action, to defend her honor. But there was nothing he could do. He was not her father or brother, and he could not allow himself to lay any other claims to her that would allow him to defend her honor. He could not even reveal that _petaQ 6_ for what he was without risking his own family’s dishonor!

Once the streets of Meryton were behind him, he gave the _sark_ it’s head and rode fast and hard. He needed the exercise to divert his mind, some outlet for his boiling emotions. Try as he might to deny it, Miss Elisabeth Bennet had made her way into his head and he was powerless to dislodge her. He had spent two days studiously avoiding her presence because he knew that with a witty argument, a flash of a smile, and a raised eyebrow she would be able to capture his heart. He thought he’d succeeded in tamping down his stubborn feelings, yet he’d felt her loss acutely as soon as she’d departed Netherfield, as if something in him came alive in her presence and withered without her.

He felt it stirring back to life when they entered town. Before he’d even seen her he felt her presence drawing him in like a tractor beam. His emotions had been too high already and it was a product of his determination not to look at her that had set Wickham squarely in his sight. That _taHqeq 7_ had nearly ruined his sister, and seeing him there in the company of respectable women — of Elizabeth! — made his blood boil.

His mind cycled through these same dark thoughts as his mount began to loose its energy. He was nearly to Netherfield when Bingley finally caught up. "Darcy! What was that?"

"That," said Darcy in a menacing voice, "was Wickham."

"Wickham," Bingley looked up as if mentally accessing a file on the man, "is he not a lower member of the House of Darcy?"

"Was," Darcy corrected, "his father was a valued advisor to my own father and Wickham was part of my house for most of my life. But that  taHqeq has no honor and nearly destroyed my ancient household single-handedly."

Bingley was clearly taken aback by the violence of this proclamation and wisely refrained from pressing farther. Instead, he suggested, "Well, it sounds like you could use a hunt, I’ve seen a herd of wild _targs 8_ on the Netherfield grounds that would be perfect for letting off some steam." Darcy happily accepted. If he imagined the targ as a certain _tu’HomIraH 9_ as the spear struck nobody else need know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. _Kahless:_ A mytho-historical figure that is the central idol of Klingon religion
> 
> 2\. _bat'leth:_ A curved Klingon blade commonly used for close combat
> 
> 3\. _sark:_ A beast of burden native to Qo'noS, similar to a horse
> 
> 4\. _Qu'vatlh:_ An extreme Klingon expletive, equivalent of 'fuck'
> 
> 5\. _forshak:_ A type of meat, used as an insult 'a piece of rotting forshak'
> 
> 6\. _petaQ:_ An insult meaning 'useless' or 'incompetent'
> 
> 7\. _taHqeq:_ A Klingon insult meaning 'dishonorable' or 'deceitful'
> 
> 8\. _targ:_ An animal native to Qo'noS, similar to a boar
> 
> 9\. _tu'HomIraH:_ A Klingon insult meaning 'useless' or 'good for nothing'


	8. A Slanderous History

Elizabeth’s curiosity about the odd behavior of Mr. Darcy and Mr. Wickham was quickly relieved. The very next evening, her Aunt and Uncle Phillips held a card party that was well attended by the officers. As the newest, handsomest, and therefore most interesting man of the party, all of the young ladies were particularly interested in Wickham. Elizabeth was delighted that in spite of this, his attentions focused on her. She was further gratified when he brought up the object of her curiosity of his own accord.

Are you much acquainted with Mr. Darcy?”

“As much as I ever wish to be,” cried Elizabeth very warmly. “I have spent four days in the same house with him, and I think him very disagreeable.”

~~~

Wickham felt his luck turning in the best possible way. He had seen the way Darcy’s eyes had bounced around the whole group yesterday landing on everyone but Miss Elizabeth. He had seen enough of Darcy’s awkward youthful crushes to recognize the reason behind it. So he had sought her out tonight and flirted with her. Not only did he have a beautiful, witty young woman eating out of the palm of his hand, but she _already_ disliked Darcy!

“I have no right to give my opinion,” said Wickham, “as to his being agreeable or otherwise. I am not qualified to form one. I have known him too long and too well to be a fair judge. It is impossible for me to be impartial. But I believe your opinion of him would in general astonish. Mr. Darcy is far too influential for the world in general to despise."

_Gagh Sopbe’! 1_ He’s so full of his own pride and consequence that he won’t deign to fit in to our society. Nobody here likes him at all!" _Better and better,_ He thought!

His mind began spinning plans for revenge on his arrogant nemesis and former friend.  “I wonder whether he is likely to be in this country much longer.”

“I do not at all know; but I heard nothing of his going away when I was at Netherfield. I hope your plans in favour of the Meryton outpost will not be affected by his being in the neighbourhood.” Wickham tried to reign his wolfish grin into one of pleased interest in a young lady.

“Oh! no—it is not for me to be driven away by Mr. Darcy. If he wishes to avoid seeing me, he must go. We are not on friendly terms, and it always gives me pain to meet him, but I have no reason for avoiding him but what I might proclaim before all the world, a sense of very great ill-usage. His father, Miss Bennet, the late Mr. Darcy, was one of the best men that ever breathed, and the truest friend I ever had. My father was his trusted advisor and he died honorably in battle beside Mr. Darcy when I was still a boy so I was raised in the House of Darcy. Old Mr. Darcy saw to my education and training and intended me to serve as a priest at the temple of _Kahless 2_ near the Darcy estate of Pemberley. In his will, he bequeathed me that position when it became vacant, but his son disregarded the will and gave the position to another who was more accommodating to his ego." _There,_ he thought, _that’s close enough to the truth._

_"Maw’tok!" 3_ cried Elizabeth, "how could he shame his family by so willfully disobeying his father’s will?"

_How indeed? you can’t tell her he paid you off._ "There was just such an informality in the terms of the bequest as to give me no hope from law. A man of honour could not have doubted the intention, but Mr. Darcy chose to doubt it—or to treat it as a merely conditional recommendation, and to assert that I had forfeited all claim to it by extravagance, imprudence—in short anything or nothing."

“But what,” said she, after a pause, “can have been his motive? What can have induced him to behave so cruelly?” _Must she mull over every aspect? Her younger sister over there would just lap this up at face value, but of course Darcy would be interested in the most intelligent woman in the room. What a bore._

"I’m afraid that despite his lofty pride, his motive was as common as jealousy. His father liked me better than him. I was always better at fighting, hunting, socializing, and old Mr. Darcy did not hide his preference." _That seems reasonable, the toDSaH 4 did always let duty get in the way of fun._

Their conversation continued on in this manner for some time. She would raise questions about particulars and he would answer as close to the truth as he could without making himself look bad or Darcy look good. She kept him on his toes, but lying on the spot was one of Wickham’s best skills.

“What sort of girl is Miss Darcy?” She asked at length.

_tojo’Qa’! 6_ He feared this might get too close to thin ice. If she found out what he’d tried to do to Georgiana, he’d loose all her trust. He decided for a combination of brotherly affection to the girl she had been and idle indifference to the woman she was now was the best route.  “I wish I could call her amiable. It gives me pain to speak ill of a Darcy..." _Ha!_ "But she is too much like her brother—very, very proud. As a child, she was affectionate and pleasing, and extremely fond of me; and I have devoted hours and hours to her amusement. But she is nothing to me now. She is a handsome girl, about fifteen or sixteen, and, I understand, highly accomplished.

Conversation ebbed and flowed between them until they were separated by supper, when he devoted his charm to winning around the rest of the local society. He left that evening feeling secure. He had thoroughly inflamed Miss Elizabeth’s ire against Darcy and charmed his way into Meryton society. With any luck this could be an amusing post after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. _Gagh Sopbe':_ 'He doesn't eat gagh!' used as an insult to say that something is wrong with someone, they are suspicious, or that they don't fit in
> 
> 2\. _Kahless:_ A mytho-historical figure that is the central idol of Klingon religion
> 
> 3\. _Maw'tok!:_ An expression of surprise
> 
> 4\. _toDSaH:_ 'Wimp' or 'suck up'
> 
> 5\. _tojo'Qa':_ An expression of frustration


	9. The Netherfield Ball

Elizabeth walked into the ballroom with roving eyes. Mr. Bingley had promptly abandoned the hosting duties to his sister when Jane appeared before him and was now escorting both Jane and herself into the festivities. She searched in vain for the amiable Mr. Wickham. He had piqued her interest and her curiosity. Mr. Darcy had always been something of a puzzle to her with his brusque manner and his persistent eyes searching for weakness but Wickham’s revelations of the previous week had cast a new light on the proud gentleman’s character. When Wickham’s friend Denny finally appeared before her confirming the fact that Wickham had left on a scouting mission that afternoon Elizabeth’s hopes for the evening plummeted, particularly when her own suspicions were strengthened by Denny’s suggestion that Wickham would not have been so keen to volunteer for the mission  "if he had not wanted to avoid a certain gentleman here.”

Elizabeth internally debated which was the bigger _BiHnuch 1_: Darcy for intimidating away an honorable man from a ball he was invited to or Wickham for avoiding the ball because Darcy would be there. As she saw Darcy staring at her disapprovingly from across the room she decided that he was the winner, she would much rather enjoy the cloying flattery of the one than the mocking silence of the other. With this resolution made, Elizabeth made her way to her friend Charlotte Lucas to relate Wickham’s tale of Darcy’s dishonorable behavior.

She may as well have been dancing with a _bolmaq 2_ for the first two dances. Sweaty palms aside, her cousin was uncoordinated, graceless, and apologetic about every misstep. She lamented that her dress shoes lacked the spikes of her boots, as those at least would have fought back against his assault on her own feet as he inelegantly pranced in circles bleating false flattery.

The following dance, with one of the officers, was far more agreeable. Their conversation revolved around battle strategy and the merits of Mr. Wickham. Her lively conversation with Charlotte Lucas that followed was engaging enough to momentarily distract her from her initial disappointments with the evening. She was thus distracted  when she found herself suddenly addressed by Mr. Darcy who took her so much by surprise in his application for her hand, that, without knowing what she did, she accepted him. He scarcely waited for her acceptance before he silently turned and walked away, as if he couldn’t stand to wait near her. She mentally berated herself as a _qoH 3_, while outwardly berating Darcy to her friend.

Darcy had come and gone so quickly that Elizabeth harbored some hope that it had all been some terrible illusion and that she would not be required to dance with that man until he punctually arrived to escort her to the dance floor.

~~~

Darcy’s intentions to avoid displaying any marked attention to Elizabeth had lasted all of three dances and he was somewhat disappointed in his own self control to note that that was only because she had been engaged that entire time dancing with other men. As was his standard practice at a ball, he had prowled around the periphery of the room, but tonight his eyes had rarely strayed from her. The sight of her dim witted cousin pawing her possessively and the roving eyes of the officer she had danced with made him seethe. For a man who prided himself on his self possession, he had been sorely tempted to march onto the dance floor, seize her right hand, and initiate the commitment oath.

He knew that such a thing was not possible, of course — he owed more to his family and rank than to impulsively bind himself to a woman of her standing — but that need not prevent him from dancing with her. After he had been accepted, he forced himself to walk away. He wanted as little gossip about their _suitability_ as possible. He watched her from a distance as she spoke to her friend in an animated manner. Her cheeks were flushed, her arms gestured wildly, and her eyes flashed. He could picture her commanding armies with that stance and bearing.

As the set began to form, he returned and silently led her to the dance floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. _BiHnuch:_ An insult meaning 'coward'
> 
> 2\. _bolmaq:_ An animal that lives on bo'retlh, bleats and runs in circles
> 
> 3\. _qoH:_ Fool
> 
> And this partial chapter is where my muse flew away. So, let me know what you think. This is the first time I've attempted a fanfic that retold all of the essential points of a plot, and it feels daunting. I burnt out. Help give me the will to go on ... with this story.
> 
> If this goes over well, I've been thinking about doing a whole series of Jane Austen/Star Trek crossovers:
> 
> -Sensors and Sensibility: Eleanor and Maryanne are half-Vulcan half-human sisters, their father's death and the re-structuring of their research center in its aftermath (not to mention some handsome new scientists) throws their lives into turmoil. Eleanor strives to honor her father by suppressing emotion and organizing her life through logic, Maryanne grieves for her father and openly expresses her emotions. 
> 
> -Persuasion: Sir Walter is a Cardassian collaborator so he and his family live a life of relative comfort. Anne clandestinely helps the resistance from the inside. Her contact is Captain Wentworth, a Bajoran rebel fighting the tyranny of the Cardassians. They fall in love and she agrees to join him in his resistance cell, but Lady Russel convinces her it'd be too dangerous and she backs out. They meet again after Bajor has gained its freedom. 
> 
> -Northanger Abbey: Katherine Morland is an 18 year old girl from a small community on Earth who longs to break out of her sheltered life. Her knowledge of the world is largely based on daring stories of space travel and the infinite dangers of the vast universe. When her neighbors invite her to join them on a trip to Risa, she gets a chance to see the universe, meet new people, and allow her overactive imagination to get her into some trouble.
> 
> Is there an audience for this?


	10. Klingon Glossary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you open up this glossary in another tab, you won't have to loose your place to find a translation of the Klingon words.

baktag

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A Klingon word used as an insult, as in a 'piece of baktag.  
  
---|---|---  
  
bat'leth

| 

| 

A curved Klingon blade commonly used for close combat  
  
batlhqelDI' tlhIngan, lumbe'

| 

| 

A Klingon does not postpone a matter of honor.  
  
BiHnuch

| 

| 

An insult meaning 'coward'  
  
bIQongtaHvISnItlhejchughtarghmeybIvemDI' nItlhejghIlabghewmey

| 

| 

If you sleep with targs, you'll wake up with glob flies.  
  
bolmaq

| 

| 

An animal that lives on bo'retlh, bleats and runs in circles  
  
bomDI' 'IwwIjqaqaw.

| 

| 

The memory of you sings in my blood  
  
butlhghajboghnuv'e'eyIHo'

| 

| 

Admire the person with dirt under his fingernails  
  
Dor-sho-gha

| 

| 

Klingon curse used to express great frustration  
  
'eDjen Ha'DIbaH

| 

| 

arrogant animal  
  
forshak

| 

| 

A type of meat, used as an insult 'a piece of rotting forshak'  
  
Gagh Sopbe'

| 

| 

'He doesn't eat gagh!' used as an insult to say that something is wrong with someone, they are suspicious, or that they don't fit in  
  
Ha'quj

| 

| 

A baldric or sash that bore the Klingon's family crest  
  
HIvmeHDujSo'lu'

| 

| 

A ship cloaks in order to attack  
  
loDQuchjIHbe'

| 

| 

I am not a merry man  
  
Kahless

| 

| 

A mytho-historical figure that is the central idol of Klingon religion  
  
Mak'dar

| 

| 

A Klingon expletive modified by pathetic  
  
mamI' DaneH?

| 

| 

Would you like to dance with me?  
  
Maw'tok!

| 

| 

An expression of surprise  
  
moQbara

| 

| 

A Klingon martial art  
  
petaQ

| 

| 

An insult meaning 'useless' or 'incompetent'  
  
pIjmonchughvay' yIvoqQo'

| 

| 

Don't trust those who frequently smile.  
  
potlhbe'chughyayqatlhpeeghlu'?

| 

| 

If winning is not important, then why keep score?  
  
Qapla'

| 

| 

'Success', as a farewell: 'may you be successful'  
  
qaH

| 

| 

Klingon honorific, equivalent of 'Sir'  
  
qoH

| 

| 

Fool  
  
Qu'Dajta'taHvISHegh 'e' tul Hoch tlhIngan.

| 

| 

To die in the line of duty is the hope of every Klingon  
  
Qu'vatlh

| 

| 

An extreme Klingon expletive, equivalent of 'fuck'  
  
quvHutlhHoHboghtlhIngan 'ach qabDaj 'angbe'bogh

| 

| 

The Klingon who kills without showing his face has no honor.  
  
rav 'IH roQ

| 

| 

Most beautiful creature  
  
reH bang larghlu'

| 

| 

Love is always smelled  
  
reHlughcharghwI'

| 

| 

The victor is always right  
  
reHtay' ghottuqDaj je.

| 

| 

One is always of his tribe  
  
sark

| 

| 

A beast of burden native to Qo'noS, similar to a horse  
  
SeymoHQeH

| 

| 

Anger excites  
  
Supghew

| 

| 

A Klingon stringed instrument, similar to a lyre or harp  
  
Suvlu'taHvISyapbe' HoSneH

| 

| 

Brute strength is not the most important asset in a fight  
  
taHqeq

| 

| 

A Klingon insult meaning 'dishonorable' or 'deceitful'  
  
targ

| 

| 

An animal native to Qo'noS, similar to a boar  
  
t'gla

| 

| 

An animal native to Qo'noS, known for its mindlessness, lack of initiative and individuality  
  
tIqwIjSa'angnIS

| 

| 

I must show you my heart.  
  
toDSaH

| 

| 

'Wimp' or 'suck up'  
  
toh-pah

| 

| 

Klingon expletive, as in 'you incompetent Toh-pah.'  
  
tojo'Qa'

| 

| 

An expression of frustration  
  
tu'HomIraH

| 

| 

A Klingon insult meaning 'useless' or 'good for nothing'  
  
'utbe' bel

| 

| 

Pleasure is nonessential  
  
vangDI' tlhInganSuvwI' ngoy' qorDu'Daj; vangDI' qorDu'Dajngoy' tlhInganSuvwI'

| 

| 

The family of a Klingon warrior is responsible for his actions, and he is responsible for theirs  
  
vay' DaneHboghyIchargh

| 

| 

Conquer what you desire  
  
yaychavlu' 'e' bajnISlu'

| 

| 

Victory must be earned  
  
yIvoq 'ach lojmItmeyyISam

| 

| 

Trust, but locate the doors  
  
yIvoq 'ach yI'ol

| 

| 

Trust, but verify  
  
yIntagh

| 

| 

stupid; dumb as rocks


End file.
